


What He Really Wants

by Nigaki



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Death, Animal Transformation, Arthur Morgan is tired of everything, Attempt at Humor, Chapter 2: Horseshoe Overlook (Red Dead Redemption 2), Crack, Fairy Tale Elements, First Kiss, Getting Together, I don't know how it happened, John is a little shit, Just to be safe, M/M, Mutual Pining, Raccoon boi, it is silly but not so little, it was supposed to be silly little story, that got serious at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27081328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigaki/pseuds/Nigaki
Summary: Obviously they had to do something with the situation at hand and because Dutch hated him, Arthur was chosen to get John to town and look for help.“You always knew how to handle him,” Dutch explained his decision.Arthur raised his eyebrow at him.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	What He Really Wants

**Author's Note:**

> This is silly, don't take it seriously. Except the end. The end is cute.

“Well, that’s unexpected,” Arthur mused as he observed a dirty raccoon sitting on John’s cot among some clothes John wore last night. Dutch, Hosea, Javier and Bill were standing behind him, as surprised as him, maybe even more because with a corner of his eyes Arthur could see that Bill’s mouth was open wide in a dumb expression. Then again, he was looking like that almost all the time so maybe he wasn’t so shocked.

The point was that there was a raccoon on John’s bed and it shouldn’t be here. Sure, it happened sometimes that some wild animals wandered to their camp before. Or not so wild, because more often than not those were just cats or dogs, occasionally it was a raccoon but none ever sat so calmly after getting caught stealing their food.

This raccoon wasn't sitting still either but it also wasn't running away. It was obviously panicked, it waved its tiny, freaky hands in the air and squeaked in something that resembled panic.

They would’ve taken it for some kind of joke normally. John grabbed some strange raccoon and put it in his tent knowing someone would eventually notice it while he would watch from behind the tree and had a time of his life, because he was immature like that. Or they would’ve taken it for a very friendly raccoon that wasn’t scared of people. They would’ve but they couldn’t. Not when the raccoon had scars on its face in exactly the same places John had his.

John was the raccoon.

They could finally say it outside of joking.

“What do we do?” Javier asked, looking at Dutch for orders. “We can’t kill it.”

The raccoon started panicking like crazy, squeaking some more and running in circles on the cot. Arthur watched it amused.

“Of course we won’t kill it,” Dutch assured. That calmed the raccoon. “But we need to find out how it… came to be,” he finished, waving his hand towards the raccoon.

“Let’s ask Charles when he comes back from the hunt,” Hosea suggested. Finally, a good idea. “Maybe Natives know something about it and we can turn John back.”

“Wait, it’s Marston?” Bill asked, completely oblivious.

Arthur and the rest of the group looked at him in surprise.

“Couldn’t it be more obvious?” Arthur asked, pointing at the animal. John. He needed to get used to calling him that.

The raccoon turned the scarred side of his face to Bill.

“I mean, the hands look human…”

Javier let out a pained groan and walked away while Hosea and Dutch simply shook their heads. Arthur wanted to shoot himself but instead approached John and kneeled in front of the bed to be on his eye level. They watched each other and that was the moment Arthur could see the intelligent in those eyes. This was definitely a human trapped in the body of an animal.

“I always knew you were a trash eater,” he snickered at the raccoon. John barked and suddenly jumped at his hands he had on the bed to support himself. “Ow! You bit me, you son of a bitch!” Arthur yelled and quickly grabbed the raccoon by the tail, lifting him up. John started trashing in his hold but couldn’t really do much. “Heh, you’re easier to handle that way.”

“Put him down, Arthur,” Dutch told him, still standing with Hosea and Bill at the entrance to the tent.

“He’ll bite me again!” Arthur protested, holding John as far away from his body as possible. “It’s like he’s twelve all over again, only he bites harder.” Arthur raised the raccoon to his face and looked at him again. John calmed down a little and from this close, Arthur could smell him. “Ugh, but he stinks just the same. So that’s a little comforting.”

The raccoon started trashing again so Arthur had no choice but let him go if he didn’t want to end with John’s tail in his hand while the rest of the raccoon would be on the ground.

John quickly hid under his cot and growled at him. Arthur rolled his eyes and just stepped out of the tent with raised hands. “Alright, I'm leaving, calm down.”

They left him alone, letting him mope alone till Charles was due to be back.

* * *

Charles didn’t know anything. His tribe didn’t practice turning people into animals and he was pretty sure none of the other Natives’ tribes were doing it either. So they were stuck with John as an angry raccoon. Which wasn't that different from his usual self, only now he could sneak onto you easier and he could bite you when he didn’t like what you were saying.

John stayed in his tent all day, hiding under the cot and looking like a miserable puppy, only with a mask over his eyes. Arthur was checking on him a couple of times but never tried to drag him forcefully out of the tent. The bite from earlier hurt like hell and he needed to bandage it. John was going to pay for it later when he was back to normal.

The raccoon only left the tent in the evening when everyone was eating dinner prepared by Pearson. By now everyone knew what happened so no one was surprised when a raccoon trotted across the camp and climbed the stump to reach the table.

Chewing his meal, Arthur eyed John, suspicious. In return, the raccoon was eyeing the bowl of his food. He hasn't had anything to eat since yesterday’s evening, he was probably starving but there was no way Arthur would share his portion with him. If he wanted to eat so much, he could grab something himself.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned the animal with a spoon when it inched towards the bowl.

John looked up at him all innocent before getting back to eyeing the food. Arthur kept an eye on him for another few seconds before digging in again. His head was bent slightly over the bowl when he noticed a little hand reaching towards it.

Quickly, Arthur pulled it away and glared at the raccoon. “Go dig some worm or something,” he told John and put his arm between the raccoon and the bowl, and returned to eating.

John didn’t try anything for a while so Arthur was sure the message was received.

Oh, how wrong he was.

John climbed the table and slowly, probably thinking he was very sneaky, approached the bowl from upfront, once again stretching his tiny hand towards it. Arthur pounded his fist on the table and scared the little shit for a moment.

“Get your own!” he growled.

Arthur and John stared at each other, both of them not willing to give up. And then the little bastard jumped at the bowl, landing face first into the stew, trying to eat as much as he could before Arthur could react.

“Marston!”

The raccoon scrambled back to his feet and ran off, knocking over the bowl in the process. It landed on the ground along with the food that was still in it. Not that Arthur was going to eat after John put his dirty snout into it, but he was still angry as hell.

He growled again and looked at the running raccoon that was leaving dirty tracks of stew after himself.

“I'm gonna skin you alive, Marston!” Arthur yelled after him, ignoring the laughter that came from the direction of the fire where the rest of the gang was.

Pissed off and still hungry, he stomped off a little away from the camp, already pulling out a cigarette to calm himself.

Fucking Little Johnny Marston!

* * *

They kind of hoped that John would get back to normal overnight but it didn’t happen. When Arthur opened his eyes, a raccoon was staring back at him, perched on top of his table.

Arthur groaned and rubbed at his tired eyes. When he looked back towards the table, the raccoon was still there.

“Shit, I thought it was just a dream.”

John whimpered, probably saying ‘me too.’

“What are you doing here?” Arthur asked.

The raccoon, obviously, didn’t answer, just stared back. This time Arthur had no problem turning his eyes away. He closed them again, trying to rest for a little longer till John would do something annoying again.

He didn’t have to wait long. He heard the little shit climbing something, his little paws clicking on the wood. Curious, Arthur opened one eye and noticed John above his head. Alarmed, he opened his second eye as well and observed the raccoon as it slowly creeped towards Mary’s picture then stopped right next to it.

John looked at him and without taking his eyes away, he pushed the picture with his hand to the ground on the other side of the wagon. He quickly joined it squealing when Arthur smacked him with a pillow.

* * *

Obviously they had to do something with the situation at hand and because Dutch hated him, Arthur was chosen to get John to town and look for help.

“You always knew how to handle him,” Dutch explained his decision.

Arthur raised his eyebrow at him. “When he’s a human, not an annoying pest, ow!”

The pest in question was just climbing his back like a tree. Apparently one day was enough for John to embrace his new nature and now he was trying what he could do.

“Ruin my vest and I’ll use your fur to make one!” Arthur threatened him.

John squeaked and finally perched on his shoulder. Grumbling, Arthur let him, even if the raccoon was a little heavy.

“See?” Dutch pointed out, ecstatic. “You go along just fine.”

Arthur turned his head to look at John attempting to hug his head mockingly. He placed his little paw right across his eyes and pressed his furry and stinking belly right into Arthur's nose.

Little shit.

“You owe me, Dutch,” he grumbled and walked away swiftly, surprising John and almost making him fall.

Dutch chuckled. “Of course, son.”

After saddling his horse, they headed towards Valentine, with John laying on the rump to look like a catch and not draw suspicion. He didn’t like it and growled a lot, making Arthur’s mare agitated.

“Would you calm down?” Looking back at the raccoon, Arthur hissed at him after he had enough of calming down his horse.

The traveler they were passing stared at him like he just encountered a lunatic. Arthur didn’t care what some random person on the trail thought of him but he hoped to god John wasn't going to pull something like that in a town full of people.

Asking around about humans turning into animals was going to be awkward enough.

* * *

It was worse than he anticipated. John stayed quiet, playing the role of a dead raccoon like a natural while Arthur tried to discreetly ask about some legend or curses involving the area. It wasn’t very effective so he had to be more straightforward. People either laughed or threatened to call the sheriff if he wouldn’t stop scaring him with curses turning people into raccoons.

By the end of his investigation, pretty much the whole town thought he was a lunatic and he swore to never show up there ever again. To hell with warm baths, ammunition, actually good meals or buying his horse some nice treats, he would sooner die that arrive in Valentine again.

Walking to his horse he left by stables he was watched by everyone with whispers following him. He was sure that was the end of this nightmare but then the dog that was always walking around there, sniffed that John was alive and started barking at him all excited.

All hell broke loose. First Arthur's horse reared and caused John to roll from its rump right into the mud. Then the dog gave a chase and John, not wanting to be bitten to death in case the dog wasn't friendly, started running away in every direction possible before he finally escaped to the stables, the dog right at his heels.

The horses inside went crazy, one even escaped. People started gathering to see what was happening and Arthur was among them, not even knowing what to do so he just watched the mayhem unfolding in front of his eyes, asking why his life came up to this.

When the dog and John took a turn and came back running towards the crowd, women panicked, some men as well. Suddenly everyone was screaming, either in fear or throwing curses left and right. Arthur could already feel the start of the headache and wondered if walking away would be the right thing to do, John seemed fast enough to avoid the dog for a little while. He would be fine, even as a raccoon he was probably lucky as hell.

Then someone next to Arthur finally grabbed the gun and of course the man didn’t point the end of it at the dog but rather at the raccoon that climbed the railing of the hotel porch and was now growling at the jumping and barking dog.

Arthur sobered up in an instant and grabbed the man’s rifle, jostling it up and causing him to miss when the man pulled the trigger. Some lady at the balcony almost got hit, luckily only a window was harmed but she still screamed like she was the one that got hit. 

The shot scared the dog who ran away, allowing John to jump down, run towards Arthur and climb him. The raccoon was all covered in mud and now Arthur had paw prints all over his favorite red vest and black shirt. And on his cheek because John practically snuggled into his face while the whole town was watching them both with mixtures of shock and fear.

Arthur didn’t even try to explain what was happening, he just dropped his hands, sighed and walked towards his horse that somehow calmed down in the meantime, allowing him to climb the mare without a fuss from her so he and John could leave.

Yup, he definitely wasn't going to get back to this town.

* * *

They didn’t run away far, just behind some homestead right next to Valentine. There was a barrel of water there that Arthur used to wash himself while John waited on a nearby crate, his fur standing in all directions because of the mud.

“God, I have never been so embarrassed in my life,” Arthur murmured while scrubbing the mud from his vest. “And Hosea once caught me with my pants down when I was touching myself.”

Arthur glared at the raccoon when he yelped, sounding suspiciously like he was laughing. “Shut up,” he hissed, earning another yelp.

“Well, it was your turn anyway but now it’s even more satisfying,” Arthur noted with a smirk and grabbed John by the neck, pushing him inside the barrel and keeping him there.

Predictably, John started wiggling to get free and not drown but Arthur didn’t let go till he rubbed most of the mud off his fur. When he took back his hands, John was still under water. “Oh come on, raccoons can swim.”

Apparently not this one.

With a sigh, Arthur pulled him up enough for John to climb out himself. Without any trace of the mud on him, the raccoon landed on the ground and looked up hurt. “At least you’re clean now, you should be thanking me,” Arthur noticed with a chuckle.

John growled and shook his whole body to get rid of the water. Arthur chuckled again and walked away to his horse while John grumbled some more.

“What should we do now?” he wondered out loud, leaning against his horse.

John walked up to him and sat next to Arthur’s leg, looking up. Arthur looked back, seeing resignation in those dark eyes.

“Hey, we’ll turn you back,” he promised him, feeling sympathy for John. It probably wasn’t fun to be trapped in a different body, especially this small. “Think, Marston, what was you doing before the night you got turned?”

John looked away, thinking. He was gone from the camp for almost a week, he went scouting but because he spent the last few weeks bound to bed, he got a little carried away and traveled all the way to Grizzlies East, or so he said when he returned. He was gone so long Arthur was afraid he ran away again.

He wasn’t sure he would survive something like that again.

But thankfully John returned fine and happy, if a little nervous, and nothing seemed to be wrong with him. Except he turned into a raccoon overnight.

He seemed to remember something because he squeaked all excited and started climbing Arthur again. Arthur wanted to ask him what the hell was he doing when the raccoon stopped at his satchel and put his hand inside. “Hey, what the hell!”

John jumped off him but he was still staring at the satchel. Arthur took it off, sat down next to the raccoon and opened the bag for him. “What? I don’t have food.”

John huffed and put his entire face inside, looking for something. He pushed some things away before he pulled out a map. A map Arthur brought not long after they set up the camp at Horseshoe.

“You gonna show me where you were?” Arthur asked and the raccoon nodded. So Arthur unfolded the big map and laid it on the ground. “Don’t break it,” he warned when John stepped on it.

The raccoon used one of his fingers to show him the whole trail he was following when he left the camp. He traveled through Heartlands, passing the Oil Fields and then going north all the way to Bacchus Station. Then, he turned east, following the only road going through mountains. That’s where he stopped, circling some area on the map before looking at Arthur.

“Something strange happened there?” John nodded. “Well why didn’t you say so?!” he shouted. “I was making an idiot out of myself in town when you knew all this time that something strange happened to you?!”

John hunched and looked away, looking actually sorry. Arthur calmed down and rubbed tiredly at his face. This idiot probably only now remembered everything. He better, because otherwise Arthur was going to kill him later for making him go through all this. “Alright, doesn’t matter, I hate that town anyway.” John looked up at him again, more relaxed than just a moment ago. “But when we turn you back and I will need something from the town, you’re buying it for me. No protesting, no trying to get yourself out of it. I give you money, you go buy, got it?” John nodded. “You’re lucky I'm not asking you to use your own money.”

John yelped happily. “Yeah, yeah,” Arthur replied and rolled his eyes. When he did that, a movement caught his attention. He reacted just like any outlaw would, he pulled his gun and pointed it at whoever was standing nearby.

It was a boy, a little older than Jack. He froze when Arthur pointed a gun at him but relaxed when it was quickly holstered back. Shit, he almost shot a kid. 

Then he realized the boy was looking at John. Then at him, and at John again. Arthur opened his mouth to say something but the boy was already running. “Momma! Some man talks with a raccoon!”

This day was getting better and better.

“I hate you,” he growled at John who looked very happy with himself.

* * *

Arthur didn’t say about what happened in town when they returned to camp to tell Dutch where they were going next. He was sure that if anybody from the gang would put their foot there later, someone would start retelling that awful day and because Arthur doubted there were many outlaws with a raccoon climbing on them, his friends would link the story to him.

He would never hear the end of it. Never.

They rode off almost right away, after they packed some things to eat and warmer clothes for Arthur. Instead of lying on the rump like a dead animal, John sat proudly between Arthur’s legs. Not everyone was noticing a raccoon sitting at the front of the saddle but when they did, most of them were almost falling off their own saddles in surprise.

Because it was already the middle of the day when they left the camp, they didn’t travel much that day. Arthur decided to follow the same roads John did, to make sure they wouldn’t miss anything.

At the end of the first day, they stopped right before entering the mountains and the colder climate so Arthur wouldn’t have to pull out a warm coat or a blanket to sleep under. He still set up the fire, mostly to cook himself dinner.

John got some as well, a fish that Bill caught this morning. Arthur just gave it to John raw but the raccoon refused to eat it like that.

“Picky bastard,” he grumbled but cooked the meat without complaining more.

Soon they were both eating while it got darker and also a little colder.

It didn’t really look different from any other time he camped with John in the wilderness only it was quieter. None of them was much of a talker but they liked to have a conversation over dinner or while passing the bottle of whisky between them.

Arthur felt strange not being able to talk to John normally. The silence was annoying the longer it was lasting, to the point where he couldn’t take it anymore. So he was going to look crazy, so what? No one but John was here to judge. Not being able to talk was probably annoying him too, this way he could at least listen.

“You wonder what you’ll do if we don’t turn you back?” Arthur asked, looking at the raccoon on the other side of the fire. It looked so ridiculous and unbelievable that no one would believe their own eyes if they saw them right now.

John licked at his tiny hands and looked up at him, nodding slowly.

Arthur thought he had it bad but obviously, John had the whole situation ten times worse. He was the one turned into a raccoon and there was no telling if they would be able to turn him back. He could stay like this forever, trapped in a body that didn’t allow communication or anything, really. His life would be done.

He hated thinking of it, it scared him. John staying a raccoon wasn’t death but shit, he would never be the same. And even if Arthur still hated him for leaving for a year, he would never wish something like that upon the younger man.

He wanted to get him back, to be his bratty self again so they could take trips together like in the past. Rob together, drink together and then laugh because of the stories from the old times.

Fuck, he wanted John back so badly. The whole transformation was funny at first but there was nothing funny with it now.

Arthur wasn’t ready to lose his… his friend. Not again, not ever.

John must’ve been thinking about the same things, the possibility of never turning back and having to adapt to live like this. How do you adapt to living as a raccoon anyway?

“We’ll turn you back,” Arthur promised him again, wanting to raise his spirit a little when he noticed how hunched John was. The raccoon looked shyly at him, hope shining in his eyes. Or maybe it was just fire. “We’ll find what turned you in the first place and get you back.”

John squeaked and returned to enthusiastically eating his fish so Arthur did the same with his beans.

“Can’t let you sit all your life on your ass anyway,” he added after a while and got a growl in response.

That sounded like John Marston he knew and Arthur couldn’t help but smile happily.

* * *

They continued from the early morning after Arthur changed into warmer clothes. For the first hour or two it was still too warm for him but soon the weather started acting like it should in the mountains. Maybe it wasn’t Grizzlies West but it was still cold.

After passing Baccus Station by noon, they were finally on the way to a place John pointed on the map. Before that Arthur didn’t notice anything extraordinary, trees looked fine, there were plenty of animals running around and people traveled or hunted as well.

The only strange thing they noticed was a dead horse at the side of the road but not long after they stumbled upon a lady to which the horse belonged to. It apparently died under her and injured her foot, now she looked for someone who would give her a ride to Emerald Ranch.

In normal circumstances, Arthur would gladly agree but he had more important things to do, like getting John back to normal, he didn’t have time to get off their trail, even if the lady didn’t seem to mind the raccoon he had with him.

But he at least pointed the lady a right way to the ranch because she was going into a completely different direction.

Later on nothing looked that different either. Just mountains and some beautiful sights to admire while they continue riding. But then John’s whole body perked up, he pointed at something and Arthur made the horse get off the road.

While the area was apparently familiar to John and they were getting close, it still took them till evening before they found what was possibly the reason for John’s state.

There was a strange hut away from the road, hidden among the trees. The whole thing was giving Arthur creeps and he couldn’t understand why John thought it was a good idea to get close to it when he was alone.

But that was apparently what he did, he was very excited and hopefully the closer they were getting to the hut. He was barely holding onto Arthur's shoulder; he was that excited.

The hut smelled weird, like lots of herbs and something he couldn’t identify. It got stranger when they entered it. There were some animal bones laying around, some candles, furs but in the middle of the hut was a cauldron.

John jumped off his shoulder when he spotted it and ran towards it faster than he was escaping from that dog. Climbing on his hind leg, he looked inside and let out a disappointed whine. Arthur joined him and looked inside as well.

“There was something to drink there?” he asked and the raccoon nodded. When he looked up, Arthur could swore there were tears in his eyes. But Arthur wasn’t focused on that but rather on what apparently happened all those days ago. “Fuck, Marston, did you drink some unknown potion in a place looking like that?!” he yelled, pointing at the interior, if he could even call it that. The raccoon bowed his head in shame and Arthur almost felt guilty for yelling at him. Almost, because this idiot turned himself into a raccoon and now they couldn’t even turn him back! “Those wolves really ate your brain, you moron! Why the hell did you drink that?! What did you expect to happen?!”

John didn’t answer, just practically turned into a furry ball, hoping it would save him from Arthur’s rage.

Truth to be told, he was more scared than angry. That too, but he was really terrified, waves of heat sweeping through his body as his heart ached and stomach turned into knots.

And when he was scared, Arthur tended to yell.

“It could’ve been a poison, you idiot! You’re lucky you just turned into a raccoon and not dropped dead on the spot!” Hiding his face in the hands, Arthur walked outside. What were they going to do now? Obviously someone made this potion but who and where they could find him or her? “Fuck, Marston, you goddamn idiot. Did you even think what would’ve happened to us? We wouldn’t even know you was dead! Or you didn’t care like the last time, you son of a bitch?!”

He turned sharply to John to yell at him so more, because he was still scared and he didn’t know how else to react but then John whimpered, looking like a kicked puppy, and then he ran past Arthur and into the wilderness.

“Marston, get back here!” Arthur yelled after him, now terrified for a completely different reason. This idiot could get killed like this, he was just a raccoon for god’s sake and there were bears living there! “Marston!”

But John didn’t react, just run, it was what he did best. And Before Arthur got to his horse to follow, he lost the sight of the raccoon who could be anywhere right now.

Arthur used the opportunity that he was probably alone for miles away.

“Fuck!”

That felt good but didn’t ease the knots in his stomach, nor calmed his fast beating heart.

“Please, John be okay,” he added quieter and more softly before spurring his horse to look for the raccoon.

* * *

He didn’t find him before it got dark and he had to stop. There was no use in wandering into darkness. That was usually the best time to hunt raccoons but they could see better in darkness than humans. Arthur hoped John was still nearby, maybe even watching him and didn’t stupidly run off towards the way they came to get to camp on his own. He wouldn’t be surprised though, after all John did drink an unknown potion he stumbled upon.

John wouldn’t have run if Arthur didn’t yell at him. He was scared too, even more so because it was him who would have to stay a raccoon forever. And instead of supporting him, Arthur yelled at him. Not that he didn’t deserve that but there was time and place for everything. This wasn't the time for yelling and calling John an idiot, even if he was one. No wonder he ran when he was already filled with so many negative emotions.

Arthur sighed and stared at the fire, guilty of scaring John away. Hopefully the fire would let Marston get back eventually. It was the only source of light and smoke in miles so even though Arthur moved a little from the hut he searched earlier in hopes to find some clues where to find a person responsible for the potion, John was bound to find him that way.

If he even wanted that.

He was wondering what he was going to tell Dutch and the others if he would never find John or what he would do himself if he would lose him again when a wolf howled not so far away from him, so close actually it made his skin crawl in fear.

Arthur stood up, gun already in hand. He took a Lancaster with him but it was by the saddle and he didn’t know if he had time to go grab it. He looked back at his horse, the mare’s ears were laying flat against her head and she stomped in fear.

He cooed at her gently to calm her down while he looked around, searching for glowing eyes in the darkness. Instead of seeing something, he heard growling and wolves’ barking coming his way. But before he saw any wolf, a raccoon ran at him.

John.

Then the wolves came into view as well, just two but the whole pack couldn’t be far. Shit, he wasn't ready to fight a whole pack. Usually wolves didn’t approach humans unless they were hungry. And those looked like that.

John ran past him and hid under the saddle while the wolves came to a stop in front of Arthur, bearing their fangs at him and growling, the fur on their necks ruffled.

“It always got to be wolves with you, Marston!” Arthur complained, slowly taking a few steps back, hiding behind the fire. The wolves didn’t give up and followed him, still growling.

John growled back. Even in fear he tried to intimidate the animals. The horse standing nearby was neighing in panic but she was tied to a trunk, she couldn’t run away. Good, because Arthur didn’t want to chase her after. If they would survive.

Not really eager to get his throat at the height of the wolves’ jaws, Arthur carefully picked a burning branch from the fire and waved it towards the animals. “Get back!” He didn’t want to shoot till absolutely necessary but the fire didn’t work and only seemed to irk the two wolves even more. One jumped towards him but it wasn't an attack, not yet. “I don’t want to shoot you!” Arthur warned, throwing the branch at the wolves and pointing his revolver at them. One of them was starting to walk around him, looking for an open way to attack.

Arthur shot at it, the bullet flew right past the wolves sensitive ear. Whimpering, it moved back a little but the other wolf used that opportunity to jump at Arthur. He turned too slowly and the wolf knocked him off his feet, causing him to drop his revolver.

Arthur cursed with panic when the jaws full of sharp teeth closed around his wrist when he tried to protect his neck from following the same fate. Only the thick material of his coat protected him from getting his hand shredded.

Trying to keep the wolf occupied with useless biting, he reached for his gun but he barely grazed his fingers over the pearl handle when he noticed a second wolf attacking as well.

Even more desperate now, Arthur stretched his hand as far as he could while almost eighty pounds of a living strength was growling above him, trying to reach his throat. Was that how John felt not so long ago?

He finally gripped his gun and quickly aimed it at the head of a wolf above him, pulling the trigger. The body dropped lifeless on him, making Arthur's hand shake when he tried to aim at the second wolf that was just about to leap when a blur of dark fur rammed into it.

The wolf swayed to the side, almost losing its footing and then a very angry raccoon climbed on its back, biting and scratching at its neck while growling no less threatening that the wolf’s itself.

Arthur pushed the wolf's body off himself and watched in shock as the wolf started jumping and tossing to throw the raccoon off its back. But John held tight and bit as if he was going to bite through the thick fur and kill the wolf himself.

It wasn’t possible, and after a particular sudden jump, John almost fell right under the wolf’s legs, ready to be killed with one bite.

Arthur pulled himself out of shock and stood up quickly, aiming at the wolf. “John, get off!”

John reacted right away and jumped off the wolf, smartly landing behind it. Before the wolf turned around to snap at him. Arthur shot with a steady hand and the wolf was dead.

Slowly lowering his hand, Arthur panted, listening for another wolves approaching but all he could hear was his horse neighing still and John growling.

“Shit,” Arthur whispered and looked towards John at the same time John looked at him. 

Not a second later the racoon ran towards him. Arthur dropped his gun and got to his knees, just in time for John to jump into his arms.

“Shit,” he repeated, hugging John close to himself. The raccoon whimpered and wiggled in his hold, trying to snuggle closer, maybe even under his coat. “That was close, John, fuck.”

The raccoon whimpered again, his whole body was shivering with fear. Arthur wanted to make it stop but he couldn’t do anything but to keep hugging him.

“Don’t do this ever again, John.”

He felt John nodding against his chest before the raccoon climbed higher and hugged him around the neck, nuzzling his cold nose against it and tickling him with his whiskers.

Arthur chuckled and that one sound helped them both to relax as the fear was slowly slipping of their bodies. “You know, you’re surprisingly aggressive for a little raccoon,” he joked with another chuckle.

John wiggled away from him to look into his eyes and growl at him. “God, don’t do that, that’s terrifying.”

John yelped and nuzzled back into him. “Sorry for yelling at you, but you deserved it.”

When he felt John rubbing his head against his chest, Arthur knew the raccoon was agreeing. “Better not tell anyone about this,” he suggested. Being embarrassed about the visit in Valentine was enough, he didn’t need a story about how a raccoon saved him from a wolf.

John nodded in agreement. Probably the way he got attacked in the first place was embarrassing too, because John never refused a chance to humiliate him unless it would humiliate him too. It was happening between them since they knew each other. “How about we skin those wolves? I got pretty clean shots on both of them.”

* * *

After calming his horse and then skinning both wolves, they dropped the bodies some far away from the camp to not lure other predators to their camp. After their return, Arthur decided it was time to sleep. He had enough for today.

Laying down comfortable on his bedroll, he watched John on the other side of the fire, already curled into a ball with eyes closed. “You asleep?” he asked. John opened his eyes and looked at him. “Thanks,” he said quietly, shyly. “For saving my life.”

John huffed as if Arthur didn’t have to thank him for that. Maybe he didn’t, they would always have each other’s back, it wasn't the first time one of them saved the other and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“And I’m glad you’re back,” he added. John stared at him without reacting. His eyes were almost human but his face barely showed any emotions. “I was worried,” he admitted. He didn’t think he had said it even once since John got back. Arthur had been acting cold towards him since then. Of course he worried but he never showed it openly and he certainly never admitted it out loud like it was normal to them before John ran away.

He missed it. Missed those talks they had and showing their bond openly like they used to. It was so normal to be affectionate back then but Arthur closed himself off in fear of getting hurt again if John would decide to run again. It was good to say it out loud again, even if he was talking to a raccoon and John couldn’t answer.

His chest felt so light with admitting it he decided to not stop at that. “I didn’t want to lose you again, for good this time.” 

It was so close. John was ferocious even as a raccoon but if those wolves caught up to him… There was no way he would’ve had a chance. He almost died and Arthur would’ve been forever guilty because he scared him away in the first place.

So many close calls in so little time. First Blackwater on that ferry, then in Grizzlies where Arthur didn’t even want to look for him and Abigail and Hosea had to convince him first… John almost died because he was too scared to find out if the younger man ran away one more time.

And now today.

Why was he wasting so much time for anger when they could’ve been rebuilding their relationship this whole time, getting back to where they were? Maybe… Maybe even move more. Two years, he wasted two years since John returned. To the gang. To him. He broke Arthur's heart when he ran off but John returned and he was so happy to see him. Arthur was too but rarely showed it, choosing to be indifferent at best or hateful at worst instead. And John almost died three times believing Arthur hated him.

It was time to stop being a brat about it and act like a grown man.

“You know I love you, right John?” he asked, regretful that it took him this long to say it again.

It was easier to say it when John was like that and he hated it, because in the past it was as easy as breathing. But in the past it didn’t have a new meaning he didn’t dare to reveal for a while now. Especially not with the grudge still between them that he wasn't willing to let go off.

Not anymore.

John couldn’t answer with words but he found another way. He lifted himself from the blanket Arthur put for him and walked across their camp, right towards Arthur. Without making any sound, he laid down next to him, crawling under the blanket and Arthur's heavy arm.

John settled there and let out a deep, content breath before he started purring like a cat. Arthur smiled at him and pulled him closer against himself, stroking the soft fur.

It would be okay between them.

* * *

When Arthur woke up in the morning the raccoon was gone but his arms were even fuller. Because John was lying there, human, back to normal.

Naked.

Arthur almost jumped away from him but he realized the blanket and him were the only things keeping the other man warm so he stayed where he was, wrapped around John, hugging him and blushing like crazy because John. Was. Naked.

He should’ve expected that, raccoons don’t wear clothes and when John transformed, those were on the bed.

Sleeping with John wasn’t anything new, they did it a lot when they were younger. To stay warm, to comfort each other after a hard day, because they simply liked it, but never without clothing separating them.

It still felt nice, he missed it a lot, he wasn't aware till now how much.

But why did he return to being human? Not that Arthur wasn’t happy about that but it was so strange. Was the potion he drank working for a certain amount of time and they didn’t have to go here at all, they just needed to wait for it to wear off?

He was still wondering about that when John stirred in his arms, stretching his long body and pressing more against Arthur who gulped nervously.

“Uh… Morning, John,” he greeted the younger man. “Welcome back to being a human.”

John didn’t understand at first and just faced Arthur with his whole body to look at him confused. Then he looked down at his body, still hidden under the blanket but seeing his collarbones was enough for him to realize he was back to being human.

A huge grin spread across his lips and he looked at Arthur again, who smiled back. “I'm a human!” he exclaimed excitedly, apparently not carrying that he was naked and still held by Arthur, who subconsciously rubbed his thumb over the younger man’s hip.

“You are,” Arthur confirmed, his smile growing as the more joy was appearing on John’s face. “How are you feeling?”

“I-” John pulled out his hand from under the blanket and examined it. He clenched his fingers a couple of times, wiggled them and just stoked his palm with the other. “I feel great.”

“You sure?” Arthur was happy John was back to normal but maybe the potion was still in his body and was going to cause some more trouble. “No side effects?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied, still watching his palms and grinning at them like they were the best things he’d ever seen.

Arthur watched him closely, looking for anything wrong but John seemed fine. His eyes were fine, scares were in the right place, no additional hair on his body, at least where he could see.

“Better check if you don’t have a tail still.” It was meant as a joke but Arthur really was worried about that.

John reached a hand behind himself, checking for a tail. “No tail,” he answered with another smile that quickly vanished from his face at the same time his whole body froze. “Why am I naked?”

His horrified expression made Arthur laugh. “You shrunk when you turned into a raccoon,” he answered, watching as the realization slowly hit the other man. “It was left in your tent, remember?”

It appeared that he did. John even relaxed for a moment but then he tensed again. That didn’t last long either because suddenly he was trying to untangle himself from the blanket and from Arthur’s holed he seemed not to be aware of. “Shit, Arthur, I'm sorry, that must be awkward.”

Before John could fall with his ass from under the blanket and from the bedroll right onto the cold grass, Arthur put a hand on his hip again and forcefully turned him back to his body. John looked at him confused.

“It’s cold,” Arthur explained, his throat drier than just a moment ago. John kept staring at him and the intensity of his gaze was making Arthur's blood rush through his body. “You’ll get sick.”

In those circumstances, the right thing to do would be to get up himself and get John some spare clothes he had on his horse. But Arthur didn’t really want to move from under the blanket or lose the connection to John’s body that seemed to burn under his palm.

“Okay,” John agreed shakily and settled slowly but kept the distance from Arthur's dressed body. Arthur missed how close they were before John freaked out. He would’ve been worried that he was forcing John to stay when he didn’t want to but John was no pushover, he would get the hell away from him if he really wanted, probably even punch him to make Arthur let him go. But he didn’t, he just laid down calmly and started into Arthur's eyes, not bothered by his palm still resting on his hip, happy with where he was but a little timid.

So Arthur relaxed as well and enjoyed the moment while it lasted. Before John would point out that he could use some clothes if they were going to move anytime soon. Which they probably should.

“Why did I turn back?” John asked after some time of just lying together. Arthur was glad for the distraction because the longer he looked at John, the heavier the air was between them. It felt just like before the storm, prickling with electricity, ready to strike at any moment and he wasn't sure how the strike would look like.

“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted. He wished he knew, because right now anything still could happen. Hell, John could turn back into a raccoon the next night. “Why did you drink the potion anyway? I mean, you found it and drank it without a thought, who does that?”

He still couldn’t believe how stupid John was. They liked to joke in the gang that John was dumb as a shoe and only Bill could be worse than him but John was really clever and intelligent. He was making dumb decisions sometimes but don’t they all? Arthur had few of those himself.

But never that dumb!

Thank god John didn’t decide to run again like yesterday. But he blushed. A deep red blush that covered his cheeks and even collarbone. Not that Arthur checked.

“I… ah.” John paused and looked away, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “I was riding through here when I met a woman walking on the side of the road.” Okay, so it didn’t start bad. “I slowed down and greeted her. She greeted back and asked if I could give her a ride since we’re going the same direction. She was carrying some heavy bag so I agreed. I didn’t really know where she was going, she said just up ahead. So I kept riding forward, thinking that maybe she lives in some watchtower I could see in the distance. We talked a little and then she told me to turn.”

“To her hut,” Arthur realized.

John nodded. “It seemed strange that she was living there alone but she didn’t look dangerous. Just a normal, young woman. I dropped her off near her hut and she thanked me, saying she wished she could do something for my kindness.” John smiled sheepishly. “She offered me money but I told her to keep it, that I didn’t give her a ride to get something in return. Then she replied that now she really wanted to give me something because I refused the pay.”

“And then she fed you with the potion?” Arthur asked. The story wasn't as stupid as he expected, at least John didn’t just found the cauldron and decided to drink from it but taking a mysterious drink from a stranger? Shit, that was still dumb. They taught John better than that. Hell, the kid was living alone on the streets for a while, he learned himself that some people liked to drug kids and sell them, either as a working force or to brothels. 

“No, she asked what I would like.” John snorted suddenly. “I joked that I want wealth like everybody else but she looked at me all serious and…”

* * *

“That’s not what you want,” she said to him and shook her head gently. John couldn’t tell why but her voice sent a shiver down his spine. “You just refused money from me.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a lot,” he pointed out and chuckled nervously. This woman was starting to act a little strange.

She turned suddenly and opened a chest behind her, then moved away, showing him what was inside. Gold bars. So many that he couldn’t even count them and more than he would be able to lift. He looked shocked at the woman who grinned. How could she have so much gold in her possession?

“I can give you a chance to change your decisions,” she offered. “Take the gold as a thank you for giving me a ride.” John opened his mouth but nothing came out. That amount of gold could solve all of the gang’s problems, make them rich. They would be able to leave and settle on some ranch or whatever Dutch was planning for their retirement. “Or tell me what you really want.”

What he really wants?

He wanted a lot of things. To get the scars off his face. To have Davey, Mac and Jenny back alive with them. To know for certain if Jack was his. To turn back the time and never leave because of him. To start a normal life that Abigail sometimes talked about. But not with her.

“I want the man I love to love me back,” he revealed, the words flowing out of his mouth easily after years of keeping them deep inside.

The he realized what he said, admitting to homosexuality in front of a complete stranger. He almost reached for his gun but then the woman laughed. “That easy?” she said, amused. “Oh, dear, I can make someone lust after you for a while but not to fall in love with you.”

John sagged in disappointment even though he didn’t expect much. This was just some woman, what could she do to make Arthur love him like he loved Arthur.

Then why did she say it was easy?

“I don’t think you need a love potion anyway.” Love potion? “All you need is a little push.”

John watched confused as she turned to a cauldron behind her where something was cooking. Turned out it was some drink she poured into a small vial that she handed to him with a smile.

“What’s that?” he asked. The liquid inside had a light, red color.

“My personal recipe,” she answered proudly. That didn’t really answer his question. “You drink it, but not here, in the presence of the person you love and wait.”

“Wait for what?” What was he still doing here? It was obviously some hoax and the drink in his hand was probably some juice mixed with water.

“For a push to happen,” she answered mysteriously. “That will bring you and your man closer. God knows you need it, you both are so stubborn.”

Another cold shiver ran through his body. He pulled his revolver and pointed at the woman. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded. The woman didn’t even flinch. “You don’t even know me.”

“My friend does,” she explained simply and nodded at someone or something behind him.

Uncertain, he looked back and noticed a strange man dressed in far too fancy clothes to be in the middle of the mountains. He even wore a cylinder for god’s sake.

The man didn’t say anything, didn’t smile, just stared from a distance. John frowned and looked back at the woman to make sure she wasn't trying to attack him. She smiled. When he turned back again, the man was gone.

John froze. He turned his head maybe for a two seconds, there was no way this man could hide this fast. “Who are you?” He was asking both about her and her friend or whoever that was.

She ignored his question completely. “Don’t worry, it will work,” she assured, nodding at the vial. “It will help him realize.”

“Realize what?” He didn’t dare to hope.

“Drink it,” she repeated, sounding surprisingly trusty and John knew how to sniff lies. He learned his whole life to do that. “Or just tell him. But I suggest drinking. It will be more fun.”

“When I die poisoned?”

She grabbed the vial from his hand, pulled the small cork and drank half of it. Then she returned it to him. “It’s safe, trust me. It’s not your time yet, John Marston.”

He was in such a shock that he didn’t react when she used his full name despite never mentioning it to her. Nor did he react when she left just like that, leaving him with his gun in the air, pointing at nothing.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath when he finally shook himself from this weird trance.

This place was starting to give him creeps. He quickly returned to Old Boy, but not before checking the chest with the gold. It was empty. “What in the hell?” he wondered just as he left, and through most of his ride back to camp.

He felt such great need to get back he almost pushed Old Boy to his limits, the vial tucked safely in his saddle bag.

He needed to see Arthur.

* * *

“And then I drank it the night before I got turned.”

Arthur sighed when John finished telling the whole story. “So let me get this straight.” John already looked away, preparing himself for scolding. Arthur wanted to do anything but that after such revelation but someone had to do it. “You met a woman who offered you gold for giving her a ride, you turned her down, so she gave you some suspicious potion and you took it instead of the gold.”

“The gold wasn't real,” John reminded him grumpily. Arthur ignored him.

“And you still decided to drink it because that woman seemed to know who you are.”

“She drank the potion.”

“What if she had an antidote?” Arthur asked, tempted to tell Dutch all about it and make him chain John to one of the wagons so he wouldn’t run and hurt himself like a dumbass he was.

“She seemed trusty, I’m a good judge of character,” John protested.

“You are a terrible judge of character, you almost trusted an O’Driscoll once!”

“That was one time!”

Arthur snorted. That argument was returning to them every once in a while.

“You acted really dumb, John, you know that?” John looked away again. “Could’ve really lost you there.”

It was still making his heart clench in fear. So goddamn close. He almost lost John because he was in love. With him, Arthur Morgan of all people, when he had Abigail just at the arm reach, ready to run away with him and Jack to live a peaceful life Arthur was longing for so badly.

But John wanted him and was willing to risk his life for it. It was as stupid as it was endearing and Arthur didn’t know if he wanted to strangle the other man for that, or kiss him.

John’s voice brought him back to reality and Arthur looked at him fondly as the younger man shifted closer, as if he wanted to hide his face in the curve of Arthur’s neck. “I know.”

“And it’s all because you wanted to be loved back. Jesus Marston, are you some blushing maiden dreaming about a perfect romance?” Well, he was certainly looking like one now. And Arthur almost wanted to tease him further to see that blush deepen but he knew another way to do that. “Does this man…” Arthur paused and licked his lips nervously. Or in preparation. Or both. “Does he love you back?” he asked, his voice shaking a little.

John raised his head and looked at him with eyes full of hope. The blush deepened, just like Arthur predicted.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, moving a little closer again. Arthur met him in the middle. “Does he?”

Instead of answering, Arthur leaned in and placed a kiss on John’s lips. A soft, sweet touch that sent a shiver down both of their spines. John moaned quietly and inched closer, plastering his naked body against Arthur’s dressed one. He cursed his clothes but to take them off he would have to break the kiss and he didn’t want that.

Instead, he tangled his fingers in John’s hair and turned his head to the side, pressing their lips harder together as they moved slowly, without any rush. That would come later, now they wanted to savor each other when they finally allowed themselves this closeness, this new intimacy they both craved for so long that Arthur didn’t even know when it really started.

But he was never so sure of anything in his life like he was sure that kissing John Marston was something he would never get tired of. Not after the first taste.

Gently, John grabbed his face in his hand and rubbed at his bearded cheek before separating their lips. They both breathed out softly and opened their eyes Arthur wasn't even aware he closed at any point. He licked his lips again, feeling them tingling with the remains of the kiss he and John just shared.

One of many, he thought and smiled, taking John’s hand in his. John smiled back.

“I have some clothes on my horse,” Arthur whispered even if there was no need for that. But it felt right. “Put it on and let’s get out of here. Let’s find some saloon, I owe you a drink.”

“A saloon with room to rent,” John suggested, his eyes that were sparkling with joy now also filling with a heat unmistakable for anything else but lust. 

Not breaking the eye contact, Arthur brought John’s palm to his lips and kissed it. “Of course.”

John’s smile widened and he dived for another kiss Arthur happily returned, wrapping his arms around the slim waist and broad shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> 🦝 John is the best raccoon 🦝
> 
> I hope you liked this silly story. It was supposed to be much shorter with all the actiona happening in the camp but it just took another turn when I was writing it. Oh well. 🤷


End file.
